


Dancing Cheek To Cheek

by CaremKefo



Series: Destiel drabbles (less than 1000 words) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaremKefo/pseuds/CaremKefo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants to dance with Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Cheek To Cheek

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://i-believe-in-dean.tumblr.com/post/49097301763/misha-collins-took-period-dance-lessons-at-royal) on Tumblr.

Dean was lying on his bed, hands under his head as he let the music wash over him. His eyes were closed as he hummed quietly to himself; this was the first chance he’d had to relax in two weeks. Three consecutive hunts had drained him, and he was glad to get back to the bunker to rest for a couple of days.

He smiled as he heard a soft flutter over the sound of the music. "Hey, Cas," he welcomed the angel quietly.

There was a scratching noise and the music cut off, and Dean looked over to make sure Cas wasn’t breaking his record player. The next thing he knew, softer notes were filling the room and he frowned, because he could have sworn he hadn’t seen that record lying around anywhere.

Castiel draped his coat over the end of the bed and held his hand out to Dean.

"May I have this dance?"

Dean flushed. "I, uh…" He swallowed. "I don’t dance," he said gruffly.

Castiel’s face fell. "I see. My apologies."

"Why did you—"

"It is not of import."

Now Dean felt bad. It wasn’t really that he didn’t dance… "I can’t dance," he admitted suddenly.

"I could teach you," Castiel offered. "You already have a good sense of timing and rhythm."

Dean swallowed nervously. "Don’t laugh at me when I fuck this up," he glared.

"You won’t ‘fuck this up’," Castiel promised him. "I’m a very good teacher."

Dean put his hand in Castiel’s, and let him lead him to the space at the foot of the bed. He felt like an idiot as Cas moulded him into the right position, head tilted up and to the side, one hand resting on Castiel’s arm. He knew enough, though, to protest that this wasn’t the man’s position.

"I’m not a chick!" he complained as he tried to move his hand to Castiel’s waist.

"Neither am I." Castiel moved his hand back.

"You’re an angel - you have no gender!"

Castiel slapped Dean’s hand to stop him from sneaking it back again. "My vessel identifies as male. Now, follow my lead and count one two three, one two three, one two ow!"

"Shit, sorry!"

"I believe standing on your partner’s toes usually forms part of teaching someone to dance," Castiel quipped.

"Cas, do we really have to do this?"

Castiel looked at Dean sadly. "I would like to dance with you. It used to be part of humanities mating ritual and it was beautiful."

"Dude, mating ritual? Really?"

Castiel looked pleadingly at Dean, who was a sucker for the angel when faced with his insanely blue puppy dog eyes. "You’ve been spending too much time around Sam," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Come here."

Dean brought Castiel’s hands up to behind his neck, and rested his hands on Castiel’s waist as he slowly swayed them from side to side.

"Dean, what are we doing?"

"We’re dancing, Cas. Shut up."

"I am not familiar with this—"

"Cas, I said zip it."

Castiel fell silent, and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder when the hunter pulled him closer. Dean smiled and closed his eyes, letting the music wash over them both as he pressed a soft kiss to the angel’s cheek.

 

_I’m in Heaven,_  
 _And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak;_  
 _And I seem to find the happiness I seek_  
 _When we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek._


End file.
